And now, a confession for you

My previous post was a bit selfish. I have these things that I know about myself, but I am good at avoiding them, and pretending they don't exist. I felt that if I wrote a few of them down, maybe I would start owing them a bit more. You are my witnesses.

So, I feel I owe you some confessions that you may actually be interested in.

One: When I was seven or eight I saw Grease for the first time, and was utterly smitten with John Travolta. When I said my prayers each night for the next week or two, I would blow a kiss into the air, and ask God to send it to him. I hope John is not in my theater when we are watching the movies of our lives in the great hereafter.

One a: The only celebrity crush that rivaled that first love was one I had on Harrison Ford in the 7th grade. Indiana Jones. I mean really. Ask my friends. They thought I was ridiculous. I wasn't.

One b: I also had a serious 10 minute mourning period (like really, I was very upset. I may have even thrown the book to the ground.) when I found out Mr. Darcy's first name is Fitzwilliam. 

Two: As a young girl I considered the fact that my mom ALWAYS knew how long things should take to heat up in the microwave a indication of the unfathomable wisdom she must have. It mystified me. How did she KNOW?

Three: During my Harrison Ford stage, I also walked around school speaking ubbi dubbi. If you don't know, try not to ask because I will respond and you may not want to be my friend afterward.

Four: On occasions when I fear for my life (like driving home on the ice-rain covered roads today, walking home in the dark past frat houses, etc.) I have a habit of imagining what people would say about me at my funeral. 

Five: I think cereal treats are a waste of marshmallows and cereal. No one should like them. Also, (it is unrelated but I don't want to finish my list out on six because that is an awkward number on which to finish.) I think my husband looks SO sexy in stripes. 

Confessions to myself

I am not a person of restraint.

For that reason it is probably a tremendously good thing I grew up in a conservative environment that discouraged drinking, drugs, and other frivolous activities. I love frivolity. 

When I travel, I want to be gone for a couple of weeks, and stop everywhere, and buy everything. None of this "we see only what we came to see" nonsense.

When I make a batch of cookies I want to eat them all. Fairly immediately.

When I find a Television show I really enjoy, I want to watch it all. Even if that means a week strait of almost no other activities. 

And yet, my sense of timidity can overpower me sometimes.

I have habit of assuming people are above me, and am easily intimidated. Hence the fact that I have never been good at mingling with strangers.

I don't like calling the bank. Bank people are scary.

I am often afraid to be myself for fear that people will think I am "weird", or unappealing. This means I am also guilty of acting how I think people would like me to be, rather than I how I would naturally choose to be. 



Here is to being whoever and however I am, embracing those who take me, and not worrying a tittle about those who might not.  

Bedtime Conversations: An iffy topic

Disclaimer: You really might not want to know this. 

Ches: Don't you hate it when you sit on the toilet so long that you get that ring on your bum? I mean, sometimes you just get distracted with what you are reading, and when you finally get up your are practically sealed down.

Me: Um. That is weird. 

Ches: That happened to me one time at elk camp, which was even worse because we just have a seat that we put over a hole, and the flies crawl on you.

Me: On your bum?

Ches: Yes. It kind of feels like this...(he tries to tickle my behind. I don't like being tickled.He got smacked.)

Me: You are WEIRD, but I like you.

Empty Spaces

That is what was on my walls when we got here. 

Ches had done a great job of getting everything set up before I came, but I made him promise he would put nothing on the walls. 

Well, I kind of attacked them when I got here.

See that animal on the left? That happened. To husband, it is a miracle.

I am pretty happy about how it turned out.

Ten

Ten days in Minnesota

Ten  home-cooked dinners (go me!)

Ten homesickness bouts/Ten times getting over it

Ten times of opening the blinds in the morning

Ten times closing them at night

Way more than Ten times of doing dishes

Ten journal entries

Ten times tossing toys in the toy basket

Ten Skype calls

Ten times telling myself that maybe tomorrow it will seem more...natural

On another note, I've got this on my hands.

Those two little teeth have made him quite a carnivore.  He's got the face for it.

RIP little Fisher Price politically correct pilot.  He devoured you with much ferocity.